


You Saved Me

by Abraxas (Qlippoth)



Series: A500 [28]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Community: Avatar_500, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qlippoth/pseuds/Abraxas
Summary: Jeong Jeong saves Piandao after he's captured at a raid.
Relationships: Jeong Jeong/Piandao (Avatar)
Series: A500 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/20622
Kudos: 5





	You Saved Me

Originally Published July 28, 2012

* * *

Through a fog of confusion he recognized the name - Piandao.

For a while the universe was a teepee. Light came out a fire that crackled from time to time. Flames lapped. Shadows danced. Eventually there emerged reality - that he was not alone....

What happened? He could not say....

People came into and out of the teepee at random. As he recovered he wondered if he were not already dead and reincarnated. Fear slithered into the mind that more and more of his identity of Piandao was to unravel. Yet oblivion would not come. So he struggled to focus and comprehend just what the predicament was about.

It happened that he slithered out of the teepee. Free, such as it was, he wandered about a village populated by strangers. Their language was less like words and more like notes shared between instruments. Little of it was understandable. It was possible whatever attempt at communication he mustered seemed as alien too....

Amid that whirlwind, he was clutched by the hand. Tugging, as if beckoning, to follow another path. It was voicelessly that the native directed him to and fro. The warrior was close to what he recalled his age to be despite that he sported a head of bleach white hair. What a profound paradox clung about that figure. The face was fearsome. The manner verged on affectionate. Not a strand of impatience to be felt.

The warrior sat at the fire. At his hands was a loom. At his feet were beads. Randomly the glass was picked and woven into the shape of a band.

Piandao took a shard and examined it - then - it was taken and added onto that band.

It was then that a flicker of memory sunk into view. He recalled riding, following a trail. He felt as lost within the wilderness as he was incongruent without and into every other part of the world. Suddenly it was night and as he approached the camp with the wranglers there came a raid. Gunshots. Arrows. The horse flung him off of the saddle.... Afterward a void.

Until the argument startled. 

The native with the white strand of hair reached and lifted his body. Just as an arm with a hatchet swung into view. He stopped and wrestled that weapon away then gave a freezing kind of howl....

"You save me?"

Their lips touched a moment. The heat of their breaths washed their faces. Fingers combined his hair even as his own weak touch roamed about territory unthought-of. For an instant they consumed a shared fever of desire only then awoken.

"Why?"

The warrior only smiled.

Piandao hesitated - as if adhering to then rejecting the vague notions or right and wrong of another life. There was such comfort to what was offered that he could not deny it. Succumbing, indeed, came as the most natural action.... He rested, then, his weary head onto his inviting lap, to watch his work with the loom.


End file.
